


Fire Inside Your Heart

by saucyminx



Series: Heart and Soul Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-16
Updated: 2010-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:11:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The vampire and his hunter have lived a lifetime together, and Sam may face his most difficult challenge yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire Inside Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story is very emotional, sad and involves main character deaths. While we want to be very careful to warn people regarding the content but we don't want to chase people away. If you read "Ice Inside Your Soul" then the sadness of this will make sense because sometimes, things just have to be the way they are. If you're really concerned about the content please feel free to ask one of us.

“Sam.” Dean nearly growled the word and shook his head, shooting a glare toward the Vampire walking at his side. “I’m not gonna fall over or somethin’, stop your hovering.” Even if he might be walking a little slower now, maybe a little unsteady because of the ache in his joints and the slight kink in his back, Dean sure as hell wasn’t going to be coddled. Not even if they were leaving a not so pleasant Doctor’s appointment and his spirits might be a little more down than usual. “Should be in the car, it’s too sunny today.”

Even though the sun was stinging at his exposed flesh Sam smiled down at Dean. “It’s fine, it’s only a few minutes and you know I’ll be okay.” Slipping his arm over Dean’s shoulders he led him down the sidewalk.

“How you feeling about everything?” Sam asked even though he knew he was going to get chewed out. There were times when being able to bitch at Sam seemed to make Dean feel like himself more, like the man he seemed to think he no longer was.

“About what? Finding out my bones are weakening and one slip up could break my hip? Or finding out I’m losing my mind?” Dean grumbled, leaning into Sam though he’d say it was just for the comfort of touch before admitting he needed some support. His eyes drifted up to a passing couple, caught their clearly confused judgmental stare and scowled. It wasn’t like Dean didn’t know what they looked like, the youthful gorgeous man helping some old decaying guy down the sidewalk. Pathetic, and still Sam was there. Dean’s steps faltered, eyes scanning the row of cars, heart sinking slightly when he couldn’t recall where they’d parked.

“We’re right over here, Dean.” Sam had gotten used to judging Dean’s expressions and lately he’d started to see the slight unease far too often. Neither of them acknowledged it out loud but then both knew that Dean was starting to forget things. Fairly innocuous things for the time being, where the car was, that he was holding his keys, where his favourite jacket was.

Sam scowled at the judgmental couple and pulled Dean closer then pressed a kiss to his temple. Guiding Dean gently, subtly he watched for his lover to recognize the glint of sun on the Impala’s fender.

Ease settled in Dean once more when he spotted the car, his body straightening up just a little. The more Dean could pretend he was still normal, the better it was. “You wanna drive Sammy?” Dean asked quietly, his way of telling the vampire it would be too much just then. So many years Dean had lived with body pain; after a particularly violent hunt he’d spent days aching. But that pain had eased with medicine and good rest. Now though, Dean was always in pain, was always aching. It made him feel older than he was.

“Sure, was I extra good today?” Sam beamed at his lover. Even though Dean’s eyes were older, his skin wrinkled and soft, Sam still saw the man he’d always loved. “It’s my decades of experiences driving right? I’ve finally got enough?” Holding his hand out for the car keys Sam smiled and brushed Dean’s hair back off his forehead. The silver of it was quite beautiful and in bright sunlight like this, he could still see bits of colour - the red of Dean’s youth. But then, Sam was convinced he saw all sorts of things no one else saw when he looked at Dean.

“Just gotta make sure you drive her good, for when I’m not here anymore.” Dean shrugged and pulled the keys roughly from his pocket, fingers curving over the metal. Fifty years driving his baby and she was still just as reliable as ever. Dean wished he could say the same for himself but apparently sixty seven wasn’t such a good age for Dean.

Pressing the key ring into Sam’s palm, Dean looked up into warm hazel eyes of the vampire he’d known for so long now. Still the same, always would be, rich honey brown hair curled in gentle waves just below his ears, framing a strong jaw and pale skin. Dean’s hand settled over Sam’s chest, pressing over the heart that didn’t beat. “Get in the car before you catch on fire Sam.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” Sam laughed and pulled Dean’s door open as he tossed the keys up in the air. “Your chariot awaits, my knight.” He laughed when Dean rolled his eyes then waited until he eased himself down into the passenger seat before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the corner of the man’s mouth.

Closing the door he moved around the car quickly and slipped into the cool relief of the car. “Sun, man.” He rubbed at his hands a little to ease the tingling. “Home?”

“Home.” Dean agreed with a slow nod, eyes drifting out the passenger window. He watched the town pass as Sam moved out of the parking lot and onto the main street. There hadn’t ever been anything special about the town they’d chosen to settle down in, besides its tendency to have more rainy days than any other place. Cloud cover over the sun made it so he and Sam could go out more often and Dean wouldn’t spend his whole time worrying.

Not that he worried much; it was Sam’s fault if he burst into flames or something. Dean turned his gaze over to Sam, dropping his hand on the vampire’s still firm and toned thigh and squeezing softly. “When was it, that one time with the Bigfoot creature thing? Remember that boy who kept hitting on me?”

“They nearly all hit on you, Dean. You’re still the pretty one in this relationship and it was 2011 - Wyoming.” Sam had thanked whoever needed to be thanked many times that one of his preternatural gifts seemed to a good memory. Over the years Dean had learned to just accept that Sam knew things so now - when Sam needed to be the keeper of memories it was less of an adjustment.

Smiling, he glanced over at Dean then reached out and slid his hand over the man’s thigh. “Do you remember how jealous I got? Toby. Toby. Don’t know how you could take a guy named Toby seriously.” Maybe Sam was exaggerating a little but the Doctor had said that talking about things like this - their lives together might be comforting to Dean.

“Toby.” Dean repeated and laughed, cutting off with a loud cough as his lung shook. He placed a hand hard over his chest for a long moment, wincing with the shake of his body then finally sinking back in the seat. “That’s right. You were... you had me up against the wall. Kept saying something about Toby seeing me now, with you drinking from me.”

A smile danced across Dean’s lips and he laid his hand over Sam’s on his thigh, curling their fingers together. It wasn’t like that anymore, Dean could grasp those memories and cling to them but they were slipping away faster than he could hold on to them. “What do you supposed happened to Toby?”

“Probably met some sensitive guy and got married and lived happily ever after. A poodle.” Sam nodded decisively. “Probably got one of those awful standard poodle things. God, Dean. That was a great night; you always tasted so good with a little dash of post-hunt adrenaline.” Laughing, Sam turned down the last road in town and headed out toward the lake.

He’d found their cabin almost by accident. After a fight - of rather epic proportions between he and Dean regarding their future - Sam had been wandering late at night by the lake. It was for sale. Of course, Dean had to see it - and approve of the area, the strategic advantages of the lot. Things that mattered to a hunter. “Dean, do you remember the night I found the cabin?”

Sam tested sometimes, to see which parts of their life were still resident in Dean’s mind. He knew that Dean loved him, remembered a lot - but it had been a full life and the details were already disappearing. In his weaker moments, Sam found it hard to deal with - never when Dean might see.

Pursing his lips, Dean dredged back through the memories, trying to pick through the minor things he could recall and look for the major details. As they rounded the lake bend the dense trees broke for just a moment and Dean caught sight of the small cabin, big enough for just them, small enough to go unnoticed.

“You got some stick up your ass ‘bout me getting a real home,” Dean said softly, turning his gaze from the cabin as the trees covered it once more and looking over at Sam. “Somethin’ about me retiring, getting too old. Then I left... no, you left. Yeah, I remember. Kept thinking that might be the time you didn’t come back. But... you always came back.” Dean’s gaze slid over Sam’s jaw, fingers lifting to tuck hair behind the vampire’s ear a moment later.

Sam laughed softly. “Well, after a few decades together I can safely say you’re one of the most annoying men I’ve ever met. I never went far. Did you know that?”

“Then it’s all your own fault. You wouldn’t be stuck with someone so annoying if you’d just listened to me. So much more you could do out there besides babysit an old man.” Dean huffed and reached for the door handle as Sam pulled into the shade in front of the cabin. “You said this place had so many trees there was always shade, no matter what time it was. Right? Like I’d approve ‘cause of that?”

As he climbed out of the car Sam threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Dean, you’ve always worried about me which is, ironic, at best. But - you approved of this place because you love me and because I wanted a life with you. You can’t fool me anymore. I know you wanted me to have this.”

His laughter died away slowly and Sam walked around the car to offer Dean his hand. “Want to go down and sit by the water for a while?”

“Long as you keep your shirt on, can’t get an old man all worked up in public.” Dean thought there was a vague familiarity to those words, like he could recall saying them before but the time was fuzzy in his mind. His hand folded over Sam’s and he allowed the vampire to guide him down the path to the two wooden chairs there.

The water was clear and sparkling in the rare afternoon sunshine and Dean watched it glistening. He could almost remember how it felt, back when they used to skinny dip at night under the full moon. Back when Dean could still pretend he wasn’t getting older and older every second. “What are you gonna do Sammy?” He asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the water.

“Today? I’m going to make you a huge lasagna, try and persuade you to listen to some good music and then take you to bed. The perfect day.” Sam knew that wasn’t what Dean was asking; he just wasn’t sure he was ready for the discussion they were about to have.

Setting up the umbrella over the chairs, Sam watched as Dean lowered the frail version of his body into the chair. Smiling, he watched as Dean scanned around them, ever the hunter.

“You wouldn’t know good music if it held a knife to your throat,” Dean pointed out with a faint smirk and finally let his eyes settle on Sam. “And tomorrow? Or the next day? A year from now when it’s just you and baby and this cabin you’re so in love with?” It hurt to ask; Dean wasn’t always sure he wanted to know because he knew once he was gone it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t like the idea of a Sam without him, it was one of those moments were forty years just didn’t seem like enough.

Staring out over the bright surface of the lake Sam squinted and reached down for the sunglasses he always kept near the chair. “Dean, this is my home. I’m always going to keep this place and you know you’ve taught me how to take care of the car.” Truth be told, Sam had been doing most of the maintenance on the Impala for years. Most of it, he did at night while Dean was sound asleep. “I’ll sit down here and stare out over the lake and miss you.”

“For eternity huh? Sounds boring.” Dean rubbing along the worst ache in his knee, staring down at the spot of discolored flesh on his hand. “You should go out. Keep the place; come back when you need some alone time but you could do things. Hunt or something. Find someone new. No point in bein’ so good lookin’ if you’re not gonna use it.” Dean smiled up over at Sam, teasing because it was easier than facing truths.

“Dean, I don’t want anyone else. I never have. You’re the love of my life,” he teased. Sam swallowed and stared out across the lake. Reaching up he scratched at his head and let his hair frame his face slightly so it would be harder for Dean to read the sadness in his expression.

Sometimes Dean worried about losing all his memories, of being just a shell of himself. But he thought, even if every last memory was taken from him, he would still know Sam. Dean had spent so many years learning the shifts of his body, the things he did to hide himself. It was increasing, Dean thought maybe Sam was trying to protect him and he wanted to be annoyed but mostly he was flattered. Maybe his old age had softened him somehow.

“Sam, c’mere.” Dean held out his hand, wishing he could be the one to get off the chair and kneel at Sam’s feet.

Stiffening slightly for a moment, Sam looked down at Dean’s hand then slipped gracefully off the chair and kneeled at his lover’s feet. Pressing Dean’s hand to his cheek he smiled up at the man. “Yes, Dear?”

“Shut up.” Dean laughed hoarsely and shook his head, curving his fingers along Sam’s jaw. It hurt to flex them out all the way but Dean pushed through the pain and the cool of Sam’s skin eased some of the ache. “I want you to promise me something,” Dean murmured and shifted forward a little, bending down to gently press his lips to Sam’s. He didn’t initiate things very often any more, he knew what he looked like and couldn’t see the appeal in that, but sometimes he longed for how it used to be.

Humming softly, Sam slid his free hand up to curl around Dean’s waist and lean in closer. He missed this so much. Speaking softly against the man’s lips he smiled. “Promise what?”

“Don’t let me forget you.” Dean whispered and closed his eyes, brushing his nose along Sam’s. “Doctor said it’s gonna get bad, everything’s gonna go away; I can handle some of it. Don’t care if I can’t remember hunting or monsters or the little details but don’t you dare let me forget who you are.” Dean pulled back a few inches, forcing his eyes open to meet Sam’s. “Promise me that. If I get to that point, if I start not knowing who you are, you make it stop.”

“Oh, Dean.” Sam swallowed and pushed in between Dean’s legs so he could press his cheek hard against his chest. “I can’t ...” There were so many things Sam could do, he was strong, he could sense things, he could do all the crazy things Dean had taught him - hell - he was probably the only vampire alive who could fix an Impala. How could he extinguish the one joy in his life?

“Damnit Sam,” Dean huffed quietly, annoyed but his arms slid around Sam’s body, hands slowly moving down the familiar muscled curves of the vampire’s back. “I don’t ask you for things often, and I know this is shit but you gotta. No point in me being alive if I don’t know who you are.” Over the years Sam had often become the very thing keeping Dean grounded, keeping him alive; their love was often volatile and sometimes damaging but it was the one thing Dean could be sure of. “You don’t want me to not know you. Think about how it’d hurt, if you saw my eyes and didn’t see love.” It was sappier than Dean usually preferred but he knew Sam would take it more seriously because of it.

Sam bit down hard on his bottom lip, jaw muscles tight against the swell of grief inside his chest. It shouldn’t be the way it was. For them, for the vampire and his hunter the laws of nature had always been against them, their universe a little upside down. “How would I know when? How ... what do I do afterwards?”

Something completely foreign to Sam was flickering to life inside him. Fear. A world without Dean.

“You know what to do.” Dean framed Sam’s face between his hands and pushed him back, eyes flicking across the vampire’s features. “Just like I’ve always said. If I die, when I die, you salt and burn my body. Then you do what you gotta Sammy, I won’t blame you for whatever it is.” There was more to what Dean was saying, the hidden message.

After all, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about something happening to Sam before and how he might react. If one of the few hunters they’d come across on their journeys had discovered what Sam was, if they’d killed him, Dean wouldn’t bother with life any longer. He could understand if Sam felt the same way. “And, you’ll know. When it gets real bad, we’ll both know.”

Dean hated the look of agony Sam was desperately trying to hide on his features and he pushed forward, bringing Sam toward him again so their lips could meet. Anything to make that look go away.

Leaning forward, Sam parted his lips and pulled Dean in closer. There might have been a little desperation to the kiss, a little urgency, but that was just where Sam lived at the moment.

For so many years it had been almost possible to believe they might cheat the limitations of life, somehow, find a way to just keep going. Even when Dean had flat out refused to let Sam change him so they could stay together - Sam, had held out hope.

Clinging harder than he should to Dean’s jacket, Sam deepened the kiss for a few moments then pulled back, resting his forehead against the warmth of Dean’s cheek. “If it’s what you want,” he whispered. “I promise.” His voice broke and he felt Dean’s hold tighten on him slightly. Dean was always the strong one.

“Just wanna die still knowing who makes me more complete.” Dean whispered and wet his lips, letting the taste of Sam comfort him. It went far to remind his mind of how it once was, back when they’d waste hours kissing. “Let’s go inside. I’ll lay down with you for a while.” Dean smiled wryly at Sam, knowing his words were just a cover up for his own request to lie down and have Sam join him.

“Okay,” Sam said softly. He brushed his lips across Dean’s cheekbone and stood, helping his lover up to his feet. “I love you, you know that.” His hands lingered on Dean’s arms, fingers rubbing gently. It felt like time was ticking away from him so quickly.

“I love you too Sam.” Dean murmured and covered up the wince of pain as he stepped wrong and his hip throbbed. His fingers grasped Sam’s arm, needing the touch as much as the stability. “You can tell me some stories, rank our greatest sexcapades.” Dean smirked up at Sam, hoping to get a smile back on his face.

“That will take years,” Sam said as his lips twitched into a slight smile. “Let’s get started.”

-=-=-=-

The first time Sam noticed a big change they were out at the Hardware store. Dean had noticed that the back deck on the cabin was rotting on one side; just a few planks and they had gone to the lumber yard to pick up two by fours then headed to the hardware store for wood nails. Little things like that were important to Dean and Sam supposed that was how the man had survived for so long. The right nail for the right job, just like always being armed with the right weapon. It was how Dean had lived his life.

Somewhere between the lamps and the plumbing fixtures they’d gotten separated. Sam was intent on finding the nails and getting them home. He was selfish with their time lately, almost miserly, wanting to be alone with Dean as much as possible. When he finally had a bag of nails he grinned and headed around the corner of the aisle to look for Dean.

After a few aisles with no sign of Dean, Sam started to worry. Usually they always stayed together; most of the time, Dean couldn’t be persuaded to move out of Sam’s line of sight. After moving as quickly as he could around the entire store, Sam gave up, paid for the nails and headed outside to check the car.

As he rounded the corner he saw Dean sitting on one of the patio swings lined up in front of the store. Relief washed over him and he pulled his sunglasses down to cover his eyes. “Dean, you get tired of walkin’ round?” He tried unsuccessfully to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

Seeing Sam made the slight panic ease in Dean and he pushed up, keeping his eyes down on the ground. “Just... figured it’d be faster. Without me hobbling along.” He muttered the words, rubbing his sweaty palms along his hips. He didn’t want to tell Sam the truth, that he’d stopped for... something and things just got a little fuzzy. He’d come outside because Sam would be there. At some point.

“You get the...” Dean looked at the bag in Sam’s hand, trying to guess what it was they’d been getting. Something for the cabin he thought, he was pretty sure it wasn’t any type of food item. “We ready to go?” He finally asked when he couldn’t remember what it was Sam was getting.

“You okay?” Sam held out the bag of nails to Dean knowing full well that the man couldn’t remember what they’d been looking for. “Are these right for the deck?”

“For the deck?” Dean repeated, looking up at Sam then down at the bag. It came back to him then, the deck needed some work, Dean had been pestering Sam about it. “Yeah, these’ll do.” He nodded and curled the bag in his fist, lifting his eyes to scan along the parking lot before looking at Sam. “I’m good. We uh, going home now? Everything done?”

“Yeah, we’re good, Dean. Want me to drive?” Sam was driving all the time now, but he always asked. There would never be a day he wouldn’t hand over the keys in an instant. Rubbing at his forehead he threaded his fingers through Dean’s even though the man hated what he called public displays of affection. Sam knew what Dean didn’t like was the way people looked at them so strangely. Sam didn’t care. When he looked at Dean he saw through the years, he saw only the man he’d always seen. Dean Winchester might be a lot of things but ultimately - he was just Sam’s.

“Yeah, you drive.” Dean nodded and didn’t lift his gaze, letting Sam lead him along to the car. The Doctor called these episodes, being somewhere and forgetting what it was. Dean had never hated something more.

Sam helped him into the car and Dean clutched his arm before he could move away, tugging Sam down a few inches. “What was it, that one time you saved me. When you stayed, and I let you drink from me. What was that?” He stared at Sam for a long moment then squeezed his arm a little harder, feeling the sharp cold bite of panic clench his heart. “What did you save me from?”

“A werewolf.” Sam crouched down just outside the passenger door and gazed up at Dean. “He brought us together really, didn’t he? If I hadn’t nearly had my ass handed to me you might never have felt sorry enough for me to take me back with you. Weak as a kitten and you still didn’t kill me. You called me an idiot.” Sam laughed softly, fingers settling on Dean’s hip.

“You probably were.” Dean pointed out and swallowed thickly, trying to take himself back to that night. He couldn’t, not even knowing the facts. It was like someone had picked through the files of his mind and deleted that one, there were probably more gone too; Dean didn’t want to know. “And well, you’re good in bed. Wasn’t gonna kill someone who could make me feel like that.” He smiled over at Sam, slowly loosening his grip on the vampire’s arm.

“Had a big talk that night, too. God, you’ve always been like a dog with a bone when it comes to working things out.” Sam laughed again and rubbed his hand up the smooth cotton of Dean’s shirt. “Wanna stop for one of those milkshakes from the diner on the way home? Chocolate with a cherry? I like your kisses flavoured.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Dean nodded and pushed at Sam weakly. “And don’t try that bullshit with me. I haven’t lost my memory that much. You’re the one who’s so damn sentimental, buying cabins and holding my hand in public.” Dean trailed off in a mutter but a smile still lingered along his lips.

Hiding the fact that his heart had inched a little closer to breaking Sam grinned and stood so he could close Dean’s door. Once he was behind the wheel he rolled his window down to get the breeze whipping through the car like Dean enjoyed and turned the music up slightly.

These were familiar things, Dean knew them and he clung to them. And if he scooted a little closer along the seat toward Sam, well he was pretty sure the vampire wouldn’t complain about that.

-=-=-=-

There was no need for Sam to sleep really. He used to when they hunted, when they’d both used a lot of energy and Sam used the time to refresh himself. Without that though, he could mostly stay awake but Dean knew the vampire tended to lie in bed anyway. On more than a hundred occasions Dean woke at night to find Sam holding him, having gathered him close after he’d drifted off.

Dean often wondered what Sam thought about in those times, if he was reliving memories or if he was just enjoying what he had while it was still his. It was unusual then, when Dean woke up in the middle of the night and Sam wasn’t there. The panic was worse because Dean had woken in pain, the worst kind of aching pain that made him wish he was dead already. Growing old and slowly dying was one of the hardest things that had ever happened to him and sometimes he wondered if that was only because he knew he’d had the choice once not to.

But he’d never said yes to that, never let Sam change him and it was too late now to take it back. On this night it took ten minutes for Dean to get himself up-right. His time sleeping at night had shortened significantly. He stayed up late and woke early, his body not letting him get the deep and thorough sleep he sometimes longed for.

Nearly fifteen minutes later Dean was finally shuffling out of the room, using a hand on the wall to guide him through the house. “Sam?” He called out softly, looking around the living room and shaking his head before stepping into the kitchen. No Sam.

Dean had this fear he didn’t mention often. The idea of Sam finally giving up, finally deciding he just couldn’t take it anymore. Dean tried to imagine what it would be like on the other side, watching his lover slowly deteriorate. He knew that Sam often thought of him as the strong one but it was moments like these when Dean thought Sam was really the strongest of them both.

But Sam wasn’t gone, of course, he had stayed as he always would as long as Dean was alive.

Dean watched him through the screen door, standing out in the middle of the lawn and looking up at the moon. Sam was gorgeous, he always was. His golden hair glistened in the moonlight and he still was all those things Dean had first found gorgeous about him. Only, Dean didn’t remember those days anymore. He never told Sam but it was getting worse, always worse. Some days Dean woke up and it took him a half hour to remember where he was.

Some days he got lost in thought and found himself wondering who he was. But there was always Sam, Dean hadn’t lost that yet. He knew the vampire, even if he couldn’t remember so many things about their time together.

“Sam,” Dean called out softly as he pushed the screen door open, knowing the vampire would hear the soft creak of the springs and quiet call of his name. “What are you doing out here?” He stopped at the top of the porch steps, leaning on the railing to ease some of the ache.

Smiling sadly, Sam turned and wandered back to the house. The grass was damp and Sam liked the feel of the dew on his bare feet. “Just felt like getting some fresh air while you were asleep. Are you okay?” Standing on the bottom step he leaned in toward Dean and wrapped his arms around him. The muffled sound of Dean’s heart beat was the most beautiful sound in the world even though.

“You ask me that so often,” Dean murmured and slipped his hand through Sam’s hair, leaning slightly into him. “Just woke up, pain.” He sighed softly and let his fingers graze down Sam’s skin. “Don’t like waking up without you there. You okay?” Dean didn’t ask often, maybe he was worried about hearing Sam’s real answer, or maybe he figured Sam wouldn’t tell him the truth anyway.

“Restless,” Sam murmured. He’d been lying awake for a few hours watching Dean, listening to the slight wheeze in the man’s lungs and feeling as though he was losing him one breath at a time.

Sam was caught off guard by the tears that welled in his eyes and pressed his cheek against Dean’s chest. “You’re so warm,” Sam whispered, “I’ve always loved that.”

Dean could hear the emotion in Sam’s words, he knew it was dangerous for Sam to spend too much time alone thinking about things. Every day that passed made Dean wonder if it would be the last and he thought sometimes Sam might feel the same.

“Sam,” Dean whispered and his own voice stuck in his throat for a moment. Still after all these years Dean didn’t often lose himself to emotions and upsets but he could feel it creeping in on him. “I don’t want to leave you,” he admitted softly, closing his eyes and inhaling shakily.

Tears welled until Sam couldn't see and then trickled slowly down his cheeks. He hated crying in front of Dean, blood-red tears that stained his face and usually Dean's shirt. But this was something he couldn't bear to hear.

Sam's mouth opened and closed and he had to take a moment before he could speak. "I could still change you, you wouldn't have as much pain and..." He was trembling slightly as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “Stay with me,” he whispered. His body shook with a barely contained sob and he held tighter to his lover.

“God.” Dean sucked in a ragged breath and tugged on Sam, trying to get the vampire up to his level. Dean didn’t have the strength that he used to though, he couldn’t move Sam as easily anymore. “You know I can’t. Not now. Can’t be old forever.”

More and more recently Dean regretted his choice not to let Sam change him. They’d fought about that, turned over the details, but Dean couldn’t take the risk. Just because Sam retained enough of his humanity not to be a total monster, Dean wasn’t so sure it would be the same for him. “Sam, Sammy, please.” Dean wasn’t even sure what he was asking for, but he swayed into Sam and clung to him, his heart twisting and constricting painfully.

Tightening his arms around Dean, Sam buried his face in the man's silver hair for a few precious moments, maybe it was minutes, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He still smelled the same, there were new scents about him now; some of the medications Sam had convinced him to take, the oil that Sam rubbed on his skin when his joints ached but it was still Dean. Sniffing, Sam stepped back slightly and turned slightly to try and wipe the blood off his face. "Come back inside," he said.

All Dean could do was nod; he let Sam lead him inside, clutching to his shirt. He hated that there was nothing he could do to make things better for Sam, hated that he was part of the reason that Sam was losing that happiness that had been so dominate over the last few years of their life. Dean wished he had a way to turn back time, to do it all over just because he wanted another forty years with his lover.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered halfway down the hall, arm squeezing along Sam’s middle. “I should have let you change me. I shouldn’t have been so...” There were a variety of words to fill in there, scared, righteous, prideful. He could have had forever with Sam but he’d chosen to be human instead.

Sam smiled, as they walked down the hall toward the bedroom. "I'm kind of glad you didn't, sometimes. Remember the night I met you?" Sam helped Dean to settle back down on the bed then kneeled down in front of him. Smiling brightly up at his lover he slid his hands along Dean's thighs. "I saw you from across that bar and you were beautiful. Arrogant and sexy, all pleased with yourself over some hunt but I knew I wanted you. Right away I saw the life in you and instead of wanting to make it go away I wanted to keep it going. If you'd become like me, that wouldn't have been there anymore."

Nodding slowly, Dean stared at Sam, slowly reaching up to cup the side of his face. “I don’t Sam. I don’t remember the night we met.” He whispered the words, swallowing thickly at the foul taste they left in his mouth. His fingers danced across Sam’s jaw, sliding across his lips and hesitating. “Sam?” He exhaled the name shakily, wetting his lips and shaking his head. “I’m... I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Tears started to well in Sam's eyes again and he looked down and sucked in a harsh breath. Lifting a shaking hand, Sam pressed it against Dean's chest without looking up. He shook his head slowly; he wasn't ready. There had to be more time. His free arm circled around Dean's waist and he shifted as close as he could, chest tight and unforgiving.

“I don’t want to forget everything. There’s so much... so many things I don’t remember anymore, Sam. My dad, growing up, you. I’m losing you and I can’t-” Dean could feel the tears welling in his eyes, slowly forming and falling down his cheeks as he blinked. “I know it’s selfish, I know it’s, god it’s horrible to ask you to but Sam, please. Please don’t make me lose you, not what I have left of you.” Dean wrapped his arms tight around Sam, squeezing until it hurt.

"It's ...not selfish," Sam breathed. He was shaking so badly he knew Dean had to feel it, had to know. Using every bit of his will power Sam tried to steady himself. "What I remember most was how you moved. Like a hunter, graceful and strong." Pushing up to his feet Sam crawled onto the bed and pulled Dean into his arms so they could lie down together.

"And your eyes. Your eyes are so beautiful, the kind of green that you don't see all the time. Like glass or something." Sam sighed and slid his fingers up through Dean's hair. "You were so pissed at me." Sam laughed softly to cover up his almost sob and groaned softly. "You were so pissed when you found out I was a vampire."

“Was I?” Dean turned toward Sam slightly, smiling sadly up at him. “Did I try and kill you? Did we fight?” He desperately wished he could remember, if he could just graspthat detail, what he’d felt like when he first met Sam. Dean knew he loved him, he could list off the reasons he did but he couldn’t remember when it first began and that hurt.

Sam's heart was breaking apart in his chest. "You didn't try and kill me, maybe because you were always a fair man. You knew that I hadn't hurt you and you liked it - you liked me drinking your blood. You told me long after that time that it was amazing. You always liked that."

Sam shifted down a little until he could rest his head on Dean's chest. The man's collarbone was more prominent now, sharper under Sam's cheek. Rubbing his hand in circles on Dean's chest he breathed slowly. “You always said that the fight in us, the way we were so different is what kept us going.” Sam trailed kisses along Dean’s neck, lips brushing the soft skin gently.

“Do you miss having me like that?” Dean asked quietly, sliding his hand down Sam’s back, drawing it back up to his hair. “Jesus Sam, I can’t remember how it felt. When you drank from me, when we had sex, I don’t-” Dean sucked in the words, not wanting to tell what Sam probably already knew. “How long has it been? When was the last time?”

Sam’s entire body curled forward in silence as he held in the sob that was trying to claw its way out of his throat. A few silent minutes passed before Sam trusted his voice again. "Not that long ago," he lied. Even though he missed it, there were so many other things that were so much more important in the end. "I could... I could do it now, show you. I bet you'll remember." Sam sucked in a shaky breath and blinked up at Dean.

A faint laugh fell from Dean’s lips as he looked down at Sam, straining himself to try and remember. Anything, just any little thing for him to grasp onto. “Can’t imagine you finding me appealing in any way. But, you gotta, you’re gonna do it now. Then you can go be happy again, do all those things to make you happy again.” Dean curled his fingers over Sam’s shoulder, tears blurring his eyes all over again. “Sammy, tell my why you stayed, after all these years.”

"Because you're my heart. I love you - I can watch you for hours and never get tired of it. You're still the same man today that I met all those years ago." As tears streamed down Sam's face he pressed his lips to Dean's gently then murmured, "I stayed because you make me happy, because you love me."

“Seems fair,” Dean murmured and pressed up against Sam, letting their lips brush together once more. Dean didn’t want to think about how he couldn’t remember so many kisses he’d had with Sam. “Will you do it? Before I lose any more?” His hand slid up into Sam’s hair, running loosely through the strands.

"Yeah, Dean. I'm gonna do it." Sam stifled a sob and buried his face in Dean's neck. "I love you so much and you've always loved me." His lips moved softly against Dean's throat and he could feel the blood tears on his face wetting the man's neck.

Sam lapped at Dean’s salty skin, tears flowing freely. A gentle kiss and then he sank his teeth into Dean's neck. The skin gave quickly, and Sam moaned when he tasted the familiar nectar of Dean's blood. It had been so long since he'd dared to taste his lover.

There was a sting of pain but it was so minor compared to everything else Dean felt in his body he hardly noticed. Then it was heat, curling through his system and steadily building. Dean closed his eyes and let his hand settle on the back of Sam’s head, pulling in slow and steady breaths. Across the darkness Dean could see Sam’s smile, bright and wide, turned to him; he could hear his laughter echoing around the room, his annoyed eye roll when Dean insisted he was right and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

It was decades they’d spanned, Sam with his silky soft hair and porcelain skin never changing, always cool and smooth beneath his fingers. And Dean, himself, aging steadily, wrinkles forming into his skin as his hair lightened and his mind slipped away. But mostly it was them, coming together against all odds, pulling apart only to snap hard back like the world wouldn’t let them drift too far.

“I love you Sammy,” Dean whispered, not sure if he felt weak because of his age or weak because this was it, his life slipping away.

Sam could feel the blood slowing as he drew up mouthful after mouthful, swallowing his lover's life. His fingers curled round Dean's neck, gently brushing against his skin and he listened. He listened as the heartbeat that had been his constant companion over the years slowed. He listened as Dean's breathing became slower, more shallow, less regular. The fingers stopped moving in his hair and Sam continued to drink until he heard only silence.

Pulling back from Dean, sitting up, Sam gasped in a long painful breath of air and sobbed. Head spinning, hands shaking, he gathered his dead lover into his arms and cradled him, rocking back and forth slowly. For the first time in his entire existence Sam was absolutely certain that he could die from pain alone. Arms wrapped tightly around Dean's head Sam cradled the man's body against his chest and cried out his lover’s name.

Time passed, Sam had no idea how much time except that when he finally laid Dean's body down on the mattress it was cold. The light was coming up over the horizon and the sky was the strange colour of purple that seemed neither night nor day. Pressing a kiss to Dean's cold lips Sam headed out to the living room. Dean's jacket was still lying across the arm of the sofa and Sam picked it up and slipped it on. In the front pocket he found Dean's lighter and pulled it out, flipping it over in his hands.

The cabin was quiet, the morning peaceful and Sam made his decision quickly. Heading outside to the shed he found the can of gas that he used for the old lawnmower Dean had insisted on keeping. Moving slowly back to the cabin Sam unscrewed the cap as he walked up the steps and tilted the can downward so the gasoline would pour out in a trail behind him.

The smell was overpowering and he frowned as he opened the front door and headed back into the house. Heading across the living room he picked up the keys to the Impala and made his way back to the bedroom, all the while, leaving a trail of gas behind him.

The only time he hesitated was when he reached the bedroom door. So much of his life, so much of his happiness had been in the room and he was accosted with visions of Dean's smile, the sound of his laughter and his voice. God, his voice. A strangled sound left Sam's throat and he headed back into the room and stared down at his lover for a while. Even in death Dean was beautiful.

Climbing onto the bed Sam dropped the gas can behind him and heard it glugging quietly as the liquid soaked into the bed. Gathering Dean into his arms Sam kissed him, tears on his cheeks again. "I love you, Dean," he whispered against the cold lips. But there was no answer and Dean was so very cold.

Pulling the lighter out of his pocket Sam flipped it open and spun the wheel. The flame was bright in the dim light of their bedroom and Sam watched through his tears as the light danced over the lines and creases of Dean's face. Reaching behind him he set the lighter down and heard the soft puff of the gasoline catching light.

Sliding his arms around Dean he pulled him onto his chest and closed his eyes. The heat soothed him, warmed his cold skin and he smiled into his lover's neck.


End file.
